


The Best Thing Since Peanuts

by phlossie



Series: Sterek Week 2015 [7]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Assumed Sciles, College!AU, Halloween, M/M, Scallison, SterekHalloween, no actual Sciles, sterek, sterekweek2015
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-31
Updated: 2015-10-31
Packaged: 2018-04-29 07:54:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5120747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phlossie/pseuds/phlossie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At this moment in time though, with gyrating attractive people who were not even remotely interested in gyrating in his vicinity also pretending he didn't exist, Stiles felt that maybe the several month long moratorium should come to an end. </p><p>At least that way they could be miserable together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Best Thing Since Peanuts

**Author's Note:**

> For Sterek week and Halloween 2015! :) enjoy.

Stiles might be reconsidering the wisdom of choosing Charlie Brown for halloween. He’d thought it was funny to begin with, like _really_ funny. Cos you know, Scott was a _Werewolf_ … and Stiles was pretty much his _human;_ and who didn't find vague werewolf puns using fifty year old comics amusing? Now though, now that he can see all the ridiculously attractive, _hot models_ in their _designer crafted costumes_ , he is feeling a little bit… _underdressed._

 

Even Scott looks cool in his last-minute-holyshitineedacostumestileswherecanigetacostume?-costume, which he’d picked up from the party shop at the end of their street and was covered in dubious-might-be-actual-blood-stains. In fact he seemed to have picked up a very pretty Katniss or maybe genderbend hawkeye, Stiles couldn’t tell between all the writhing bodies and strobe lighting. 

 

So, yeah, Stiles was beginning to regret the scull cap and yellow top combo that sorta made him look like a psychedelic Dr.Evil. Which he wasn’t _against_ per se, it just wasn't what he was _going for_ when he started out. 

 

That was: cultured, intelligent _and_ funny, not just, that-one-weird-kid-who-always-manages-to-make-things-awkward, which, he had a feeling, was what he _was_. 

 

He sidled over to the bar hoping to drown his troubles in ridiculously overpriced, but if he’s lucky paid for by the hosts, beverages, they were probably all going to taste like horrifyingly inaccurate children’s sweets, but at this point, he was beyond caring. 

 

Unfortunately the bar was occupied by a very glowery do-not-approach-on-pain-of-death Lumberjack. Who, on closer inspection, happened to be Derek Hale, the much older roommate of Scott’s friend Isaac, who had, for his part, ignored Stiles for the last three months he’d known him. Which was fine, because Stiles had a lot of practice at admiring from afar, a _Lot_ of practice. Capital L. 

 

At this moment in time though, with gyrating attractive people who were not even remotely interested in gyrating in his vicinity also pretending he didn't exist, Stiles felt that maybe the several month long moratorium should come to an end. At least that way they could be miserable together.

 

“Hi!” 

 

Derek’s eyebrows did a Mexican wave of confusion. 

 

“This seat taken? No? Cool, I’ll just…” He perched on the barstool. “Yeah. So, uh, how’s it going? Enjoying the party?-” 

 

Derek scowled in a way that Stiles felt could be interpreted as ‘no, I’m not enjoying the party’ rather than ‘stop talking to me you weirdo.’ so he took it as a sign to continue. 

 

“-Or well, not. I totally understand dude, I suck at this kind of thing, totally not my style, always come off looking like a douchebag. I think it might be a medical condition, you heard of foot in mouth disease? Not like, foot _and_ mouth disease. I’m pretty sure I’d be in a quarantine if I had that, Ha.-” 

 

A very small quirk turned up the corners of his mouth. 

 

“-No like, the minute I open my mouth, the worst possible thing I could say comes out of it. It’s a curse! I cant imagine having conversation like a normal person. But you seem to have that whole caper down pat… Or well, you’ve got the not-foot-in-mouth thing working for you at least…” 

 

The eyebrows said ‘oh?’ 

 

“I’m not sure _not_ -saying-anything would work all that well for me…” he grinned deprecatingly and got a very tentative smile in return. 

 

“I’m Stiles by the way, I think we’ve met, but I don't know if I actually introduced myself…” He extended his hand, which Derek took after a moments hesitation.

 

“Derek”

 

“Yeah man! You’re Isaac’s roomie right?-” 

 

There was a brief flash of surprise, and a minute nod. 

 

“-I popped by the other day with Scott before the game, crazy you know, I would not have expected the Mets to lose to those guys. Completely unforeseen, I even lost fifty to Scott, and that never happens! I feel like I’ve been cheated-” 

 

The bartender plonked a glass of garish pink liquid in front of him and he grabbed it mid flow, nodding his assent, although he had no idea where it had come from. 

 

“-Thanks -like the gods conspired against me or something. It’s like that essay I had to write for post modern lit-”

 

Derek’s left eyebrow was slowly climbing its way up his forehead.

 

“- Sorry, I’m rambling! Feel free to cut me off man, any time. God knows I can talk for hours if you let me go.” Stiles pulled a face and Derek’s other eyebrow joined the first.

 

There was an awkward pause.

 

‘So, Wolverine huh? That’s cool, Wouldn't have picked you as a Marvel man! But I like the subtlety. It’s nice to see you in something other than black and dark grey.-” _Oh dear god, why did I say that? Now he probably thinks I’ve been stalking him!_ “- Not that it doesn't suit you, it’s just... nice? _..._ to see variety!” _You are a complete social failure._

 

Derek had this cute little incredulous smirk. “I’m not sure Yellow is your color…” he said and his eyes flicked down, then up Stiles’ body.

 

Stiles couldn't tell if it was the alcohol or the stuffy room, but he suddenly felt hot all over. “Oh. Uhh… yeah, it was- Scott was gonna come as Snoopy, but someone stole the head and used it to make a were-rights art installation on the Quad. So, I’m flying solo.”

 

Derek got this constipated look on his face again and his eyes flicked up to focus on something over Stiles shoulder.

 

“Uh” Stiles turned _. Speaking of the devil_. “Oh hey Scotty! Sup?” Scott had his arm draped over Hawkeye’s shoulder and was smiling goofily at her as they walked over to Derek and Stiles at the bar.

 

“Hey Stiles! Derek.” The killer glare he received barely even dented his perennially cheery attitude. “This is Allison, she just moved over from Jackson with her dad. Ally this is Stiles” he waved. “And this is Derek.” 

 

Derek growled and flashed his eyes and was suddenly all up in Scott’s personal space. “What the hell do you think you’re doing.” It was really more of a growl, and Scott barred his teeth instinctively. 

 

“Woah man.” Stiles tripped off the stool and tried to pull Derek back a little, the contact seemed to make it worse though, because Derek actively growled at Scott and they both wolfed out a little. “Okay… O-kay” He took a step back, they were starting to draw attention. “Scott, let it go man, Whatever it is, walk away, just walk away.” It was too late though, the wolves already stuck in their primal power struggle. 

 

“What do you think you’re doing, rubbing it in like that?” Derek enunciated each word like a punch. 

 

All Stiles could think was: _Thank god they’re still verbal._

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Scott snapped around his fangs. 

 

It was the wrong thing to say and Derek snarled and lunged forward, but came up against the suddenly very real bow and arrow Allison had been using as a prop.

 

“Hold it right there.” 

 

Derek was growling still, a continuos rumble that shook through their rib cages even over the thumping bass from the party, but he didn't move.

 

A bouncer was making his way determinedly over to them.

 

Stiles tentatively touched Derek’s elbow. “Derek, come on man, let it go.” 

 

The wolf wheeled on him, and Stiles flinched, trapped in his furious red tinged stare. “Let it _GO?_ He’s practically cheating on you right in front of your face and you want me to _let it go?”_

 

“WHAT!?” Stiles took a step back and the barstool pressed into his back.

 

Derek barreled on. “You expect me to just _stand aside_ while he disrespects you like that?”

 

“Wh _at._ ” Stiles mind was reeling.

 

“You deserve better than that Stiles. Not some asshole who clearly doesn't give a shit about how you feel. If I was dating you I’d-”

 

He was cut off by the Bouncer who grabbed him firmly by the shoulders. “Sorry son, but I need you to come with me.” Derek’s entire body froze, then sagged in defeat as the bouncer walked him away. His eyes bored into Stiles’ all the way out the door.

 

“Well.” Stiles stressed the ‘L’s as he turned to slump over the bar. Scott perched next to him. 

 

“Are you okay?” Allison patted him gently on the shoulder.

 

“Yeah… m fine.” he smiled softly. “What was that all about.” Scott jerked his head over his shoulder to indicate Derek as he waved three fingers at the bartender.

 

Three shots of vodka appeared in front of them as Stiles answered. “I have absolutely no idea.” Derek’s final, unfinished sentence was still percolating its way into his head. _It’d all been so weird._ _“If I were dating you I’d”-_ _but that would mean- No way. No_ way. He looked up at the door. “I gotta go.”

 

“What? Why? Stiles!” Scott tried to catch his arm, but he was already halfway across the room. Fighting his way through the dance floor with surprising speed.

 

Stiles burst out the door into the crisp autumnal air in time to hear: “Go on home now.”

 

“But-”

 

“No son, go home, get some rest, cool off. You can see him again in the morning.” There was a gusty sigh. “Do you need someone to call a cab?”

 

“No. Thank you.”

 

“Alright.” The bouncer walked up the steps, past a couple of kids smoking while they hung off the hand rail like costumed carpet pythons, and towards Stiles. He raised his eyebrows when he saw him frozen on the landing. “Okay son?”

 

“Y-yeah.” He reflexively wiped his sweaty hands on his shirt.

 

“Hooo boy.” The bouncer shook his head. “I aint touching this with a ten foot pole… Have a nice night kid!” He stepped up to the door and went in. Leaving Stiles alone on the landing. 

 

He took the steps slowly. 

 

“Derek?” He asked, reaching the bottom and looking around. 

 

He was about ten yards away form the stairs, lurking by a lamp post with his arms folded and a scowl. “What do you want.” He glared at the tarmac.

 

“I, um, I’m sorry about’ He gestured vaguely at the street. 

 

Derek just shrugged. “Why are you here Stiles?”

 

“I just- Whatever you think is going on between me and Scott, you’re wrong.” Derek huffed and rolled his eyes. “No, listen, we aren't together, we- I- Scotts like my _brother._ I’d never-” he took a breath, Derek was watching him and he knew he had his full attention now. “It was really, um, something, what you did in there and I- um, want to thank you, even if you were misguided, because no one has ever done anything like that for me before, and I came out here because I thought you should know that, and because I thought I should tell you that if you’ve been avoiding me because you think I’m dating Scott, then don’t. I’m not, and I don't want you to.” 

 

Derek had stepped forward as he spoke, leaning into Stiles space a little. “You really aren't together?” his voice was soft, and thick with something Stiles shied away from categorizing.

 

“We really aren’t.” His heart felt like it was going to leap out of his body and he had the bizarre urge to clutch at it. Derek’s hand was hovering by his elbow, the proximity sending reactive tingles through his skin. 

 

“Good.” Derek leant in further, inches away from Stiles and his breath fanned over his cheeks as he spoke. “Because I’d like to date you.” 

 

A bright flush fled across Stiles’ skin, and he was under no misapprehensions why this time as Derek’s lips slid over his, fingers smoothing up his arm to curl against his neck. Tilting his head for a better angle and ever so slightly parting his lips. Stiles gasped softly, and Derek used the opportunity to skate his tongue over his bottom lip, following with a gentle nip. He pulled back so Stiles could drag in a ragged breath. 

 

“Yes, Please.” Stiles breathed into space between them when he regained his breath, leaning in to kiss him again, grabbing a handful of his shirt to pull him closer. 

 


End file.
